Sonata
by Wendy Love
Summary: The one where Sam has a one-night stand with a guy named Paul, gets pregnant and has to be told by a fascinated angel, and ends up having an incestrious relationship with his older brother. So, yeah, pretty clichéd. Mpreg and wincest.
1. Frog Eggs in the Sky

Title: Sonata

Rating: Hard R/soft NC-17

Length: 5,176/15,000

Summary: The one where Sam has a one-night stand with a guy named Paul, gets pregnant and has to be told by a fascinated angel, and ends up having an incestrious relationship with his older brother. So, yeah, pretty clichéd. Mpreg and wincest.

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.

Original prompt made by Klutzy_girl for the mpregwinchester Secret Santa. I did play a little with the prompt, I hope you don't mind, Klutzy.

**Part One: Frog Eggs in the Sky**

Sam gasped and arched his back as the man's cock nudged his prostate. The man – Paul, it was Paul, right? – buried his face into Sam's neck as he was getting closer to completion.

"Come on, come on," Paul groaned, thrusting his hips up after each word.

Sam let out a cry and felt hot spurts land on his stomach. It only took a few more thrusts until Paul came in his condom and landed flat on his back onto the bed. Sam weakly got up and Paul's limp cock fell out of him and landed on the man's stomach.

Heart beating rapidly, Sam rolled over so he wasn't directly on top of Paul and took a few deep breaths.

Damn, that had felt good. He hadn't been able to find any release besides his right hand for too long.

Sam looked at Paul, still on his post-orgasmic high. He wasn't as handsome as some of the other men Sam had been with and – my Goodness – did he look young. Couldn't have been more than twenty-one or two and already picking up tricks.

Sam moved his head and looked at the alarm clock on Paul's bedside table. It was almost midnight and Dean would worry if he didn't come home.

Sighing, he attempted to sit up but he was stopped by Paul's arm going around his waist.

"Hmm, stay," he said softy, pulling Sam back down and kissing his neck.

"I'm not really into sleeping at someone else's place," Sam whispered back, even though he could feel his eyelids grow heavy and his body wearing out.

"Just stay," he said, his accent more exaggerated now and it confirmed Sam's suspicion that Paul was originally from Texas. "I promise to make you a big ol' breakfast when we wake up."

Voice drunk with sleep and mind muddy, Sam relented, "Yeah, yeah. Okay."

Paul hummed in appreciation and Sam fell asleep on his chest soon after.

~*~

Sam woke up to a weird buzzing sound on the ground and he realized that it was coming from his discarded pants. It was his stupid cell phone and he groaned when he saw the time. The sun hadn't even risen yet but his damn brother was already calling.

Quietly, so he didn't wake up the sleeping man next to him, Sam got up, took the pants, and went into Paul's living room.

"What do you want, Dean?"

"Where the hell are you, Sammy?"

Sam sighed, so much for the big breakfast with Paul. "I'll… I'll be back at the motel in five minutes."

"Where are you right now?"

Suddenly, Sam felt like a sixteen year old whose obnoxious big brother just caught him losing his virginity. "Nowhere, just hold on. I'll be right there."

There was a pause before Dean gasped in delight as he came to a realization. "Did you get laid, Sammy?"

Sam rolled his eyes in annoyance and repeated, "I'll be right there."

"Did you use a Trojan? Did she have big tits? Oh, little brother, sometimes you make me so proud."

Sam hung up before Dean could continue being a jackass and picked up the jacket that he had thrown on the armchair while he and Paul were making out like horny teenagers.

He closed the front door softly and went down the apartment's stairs. He walked home, the town too small and boring for him to worry about getting jumped in the middle of the night. It was cold, fall retreating and winter setting in, and it hurt like a bitch when the wind nipped at his cheeks.

The motel was only half a mile away and Sam knocked on the door, regretting that he had agreed to let Dean have the keys. He'd bet all the money in the world that Dean was going to start grilling him about the 'hot chick' he was with.

Sam could hear Dean get up from the squeaky bed, pad across the room and lean against the wooden door.

"Who is it?" Dean asked, voice unnaturally deep to dissuade any strangers from soliciting.

"It's me. Open up, Dean," he said, yawning. He really wished he could have just slept in Paul's nice, crisp (if cum-stained) sheets the rest of the night instead of going back to the motel and getting harassed by his brother.

Dean opened the door slowly and Sam was careful not to disturb the salt lines as he entered. The older brother was clad in only his boxers and a wife beater and his hair was mussed up and he obviously hadn't have been awake long after he called Sam.

"You know Sammy, next time you think you're going to sleep over at someone's house because you got laid, call me. Hell, text me if you want, just let me know that you're not bleeding on the floor dying or anything."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, sure. Just let me sleep, okay?"

"Was she hot?"

Slipping off his shoes, Sam landed on the bed face first. "She was okay." His voice was partially muffled by the pillows. Sam didn't have enough energy in him to tell his brother that 'she' was actually a 'he' and, while not exactly hot, was real good at getting a release from him and knew just the right places to touch. He hadn't told Dean that he liked boys as well as girls; didn't seem important with all the stuff they were going through and it wasn't like he was totally gay. Sometimes, he wanted that girl who was sitting at the bar, watching her friends go wild while she was sober, and other times, he wanted the guy who was pissed out of his mind but was obviously a very happy (and horny) drunk. They were the easiest to get in bed and were usually able to perform pretty well. Sam had stopped trying to find deep, emotional bonds with the people he slept with some time ago.

"You use protection?" Dean asked.

Sam didn't even bother to answer. He'd gotten the birds and the bees talk from Dean – and once from his dad, which didn't go over nearly as well – and he didn't need to be reminded every time he slept with someone that he needed to put a rubber on his dick so he didn't end up catching something that would make it fall off. Hell, he even remembered the annoying little sayings that Dean would tell him about safe sex, 'Don't be a fool, wrap your tool' and 'Don't die from a trick, wrap your dick'.

"Sam…?"

"Yeah, I did," Sam finally responded, just so Dean could shut up and let him sleep.

"Good boy," Dean said as he got into his own bed. "G'night."

Sam grunted in reply and turned over a little so he could breath more freely but still be able to enjoy the scent of the only clean thing in the room – the pillows.

~*~

The taste of coffee felt good as it went down Sam's throat and warmed his entire chest. Dean had been nice enough to get him some coffee from the diner a block away but he had also put a post-it note on his forehead letting him know where he was and that Sam was a really big dork for falling asleep after having sex and not calling him. The two things – the getting the coffee and the ridiculing by post-it note – canceled each other out.

"It good?"

"Yeah," Sam said. He'd been drinking coffee since he was sixteen when Dean no longer cared that it would stunt his brother's growth because – my God – the boy was already a big enough Sasquatch as it was and anything that could stop him from turning into Godzilla was more than welcome in the Winchester household. "Thanks."

"No problem," Dean said and then pulled out a section of the newspaper and pointed to an article that he circled with a red pen. "I got us a case."

"Oh, yeah?" Sam asked, eyebrows raised as he took a sip of the warm drink.

"Yep, in San Francisco. Man killed his wife, baby and his son and then pointed the gun at himself."

"Just sounds like a maniac to me."

Dean nodded and he bit his lower lip like he always did when he was excited about a case. "Except that the year before that family moved in, a woman killed her man and children and then herself around this time in the same house."

"Yeah, too much of a coincidence not to check it out," Sam agreed. "California's on the other side of the country, though."

The oldest brother shrugged. "We can probably get there in four days."

"I want to sleep in a motel overnight," Sam said, knowing that his brother was probably thinking of driving all night or sleeping in the car until both their backs and legs cramped up when he made up that estimate.

"Hmm, six days then, you little girl."

Sam rolled his eyes at the insult, they weren't twelve anymore. "Yeah, that's fine."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Dean was already packing up his things. If there was one thing Dean was good at, it was moving on as quick and efficiently as he could.

It took ten minutes for them to pack their belongings and another five for Dean to sweep the area, making sure that they didn't leave anything behind that they would need later on or freak out the people who were going to clean up the room after.

They got in the Impala, all belongings in the trunk, and Dean turned on the radio, pleased to find a classic rock station buried underneath all of the sickeningly sweet Disney pop out there.

The drive was normal, almost painfully so. Dean would blast his classic rock for as long as he could whenever he found a station that carried The Chamber Brothers or The Rolling Stones instead of the Selena and Demi and what's-her-face-that-pole-danced-at-that-award-show brand of music. When they did finally get to Northern California, the change in climate was evident. It was cooler than central California and had a wind felt good when the brothers rolled down the Impala's windows all the way.

On the final day of the drive, while Dean was jamming out to Kansas, steering wheel unsafely acting as a drum, Castiel appeared in the backseat. Sam was the first to notice him on the mirror to the left of him and only jumped slightly when he did. The angel appearing silently and without warning was becoming less of a surprise and more of an everyday occurrence.

"Hey, Castiel," Sam said, alerting Dean to Castiel's presence as he was doing so.

"Samuel, Dean," Castiel greeted, face stoic.

Dean nodded his head at the angel, deciding now was a good time to keep his eyes on the road. "Not to mean you're not welcome, but what're you doing here? Did we get in trouble with the big guys upstairs again?"

"No. I believed that I would accompany you and your brother on this hunt."

Dean and Sam exchanged a look from the front seats. Finally, Sam asked, "Why?"

"I believe that I should." And that's all he said about the subject, deciding to look out the car window instead of elaborating.

"Well, that answers everything," Dean said, snorting and turning his attention back on the road.

Within three hours, the Impala was crossing the Bay Bridge into San Francisco. As they were driving and passing the large, tall buildings and the people, Dean scoffed in distaste.

Sam furrowed his brow and look at his brother. "What?"

"Just these big cities like this, harder to investigate cases. People aren't as trusting."

Castiel nodded in understanding. "They are more jaded."

"Yeah, exactly. I mean, if I was in Hicksville, USA, they wouldn't need as much convincing."

Shrugging, Sam continued to look out of the window. "I don't know, I kind of like big cities. I mean, yeah, it's a pain in the ass to get people to trust us but sometimes it's better during a hunt. More witnesses, more information on local folktales."

Dean and Castiel didn't say anything else and twenty minutes later, they were in front of the house. It was large for San Francisco standards, where big house easily got into the two million dollar mark, and the lawn had two white swing sets in front. It should have been a Norman Rockwell painting. Dean handed Castiel his own FBI badge and the Winchesters walked to the yellow police line.

There was only one policeman on site at the moment, the actual murder happened almost a week ago, and he wasn't very suspicious of the three faux FBI agents. He asked to see their badges, greeted them warmly, shook their hands and told them his name was Billy Khan.

"Mr. Kahn," Dean said. "I understand that there was a murder here."

"Yes, sir," Billy said. "The Richardson's. The father, Richard, shot his wife, Beth, their two-month old baby and five year old son and then ended up killing himself."

"Richard Richardson?"

Billy nodded. "Yes, sir. Not he most fortunate of first name choice on his parents part, I agree."

"Where did they die?" Dean asked.

"The wife died in her bedroom along with the baby, the son died in his room and the father shot himself in his bathroom."

Sam asked, "Any motive yet, Mr. Khan?"

Billy shook his head, the corners of his mouth pulling down. "No, but we're still looking into it. You know, something really similar happened almost a year ago. I wasn't in the force then, but it's just really strange and tragic, you know?"

"Very," Sam agreed, eyeing the front door of the house. "We want to go in the house to look, you mind?"

Billy shook his head and leaded them to the door. "No problem, just use gloves if you want to touch something, of course."

At the same time, Dean and Sam pulled out rubber gloves from their slacks and Dean handed Castiel his own set.

Castiel, carefully and methodically slipping on his pristine gloves on, asked, "Would you like to come with us, Mr. Kahn?"

Dean cringed. He knew that Castiel didn't know that he shouldn't have asked that and that they should go on their own so they could use the EMF meter without any suspicion, but, damn it.

Luckily, Billy shook his head. "No, my chief said that I have to wait out here, make sure no tourists start hanging around or anything."

"Alright," Dean said and moved quickly to the entrance before the angel could say anything else that could jeopardize them getting into the house. "Thank you very much."

"No problem."

Sam, Dean and Castiel walked into the house and the first thing they noticed was the disgusting smell of blood wafting through the house.

"It is very strange that we can smell such a strong blood scent even though several days since the murder has passed," Castiel commented as he looked around.

It was a typical family home, with toys scattered around the floor and pictures of babies on the fireplace. Dean took a deep breath as a shiver went down his spine; there was something with this house, something unnatural.

Noticing his brother's shiver, Sam asked, "You feel it, too?"

"The eeriness? Yeah."

Dean took out his EMF meter and put it out in front of his body. It was going wild, beeping rapidly and arrow swinging all over the place.

"Well, it's definitely not just a maniac," Sam said dryly.

After inspecting both the living room and the kitchen, EMF continuing to go berserk, they went upstairs to the bedrooms. There was a crib in the parent's room and the son's room was right next to it.

There were bloodstains on the carpet of the wife and husband's room and on the bed. Sam felt like gagging when he saw the deep red blood on the white crib. God.

Castiel noticed as well and looked away.

After checking all of the rooms, they decided to leave.

"I think we should do some research on this house to see if there's any local lore on it or something and then come back," Sam suggested, mostly because he wanted to get the hell out of there. His imagination grew dangerously wild and an image of a dead two-month old baby covered in it's own blood was too much for him to handle.

"Yeah, okay. Ready, Cas?"

Castiel nodded in agreement. "Yes, I am. I shall be going to the motel with you, but I will not need my own bed so you do not need to pay more money."

Sam and Dean looked at each other again, eyebrows high. Castiel had never spent the night with them at the motel. Sometimes he'd be there in the morning, freaking both of them out because of the quiet way he did it. The angel didn't know much about personal space and Sam would sometimes notice Castiel sitting on the foot of his brother's bed, waiting for him to wake up and when Dean finally did, he'd visibly jump at the pair of blue eyes watching him intensely.

Finally, Dean asked, "Um, why?"

"I believe that I should under certain circumstances."

"And what circumstances would that be?"

Castiel looked straight at Sam, brown eyes meeting blue. "I do not believe that I should disclose that at this moment."

Dean looked between his brother and the angel and asked wryly, "Should I leave you two alone? I mean, we can rent a whole 'nother motel room for the two of you."

If looks could kill, Dean would have been dead on the spot from the look Sam was giving him. Instead, all he got was a slap on the back of his head and a confused look from Castiel.

"I just informed you that I did not need a room, Dean."

Even Sam's lips quirked into a smile at Castiel's bemusement.

~*~

The motel was small, cheap and family-owned, which was rare in big cities like San Francisco. Sam and Dean had picked out their respective beds, Dean taking the bed near the door and Sam by the wall, as usual. Castiel sat on an armchair near the bathroom, body looking far too big for the chair, with a Bible in his hands.

"How many times do you think you've read that?" Sam asked as he took off his shirt to go to bed.

"I do not know. I never counted," Castiel answered, blue eyes never leaving the holy book.

Dean got out of the bathroom, hair wet from the shower but jacket and jeans on. "I'm heading for the bar I saw a couple blocks down," he looked at Sam in his underclothes. "I take it that you don't want to come with me?"

Sam shook his head. "Nah, I'm cool. I just want to go to sleep."

Dean muttered something that distinctly sounded like, 'Such a girl', before he asked Castiel the same question. Castiel declined but thanked him for the invitation.

The older brother nodded. "Fine. I'll be back in a couple hours, okay? Don't you two do anything I wouldn't do," he teased, winking at his brother and the angel.

Sam was tempted to give his brother the finger, but decided against it. It just seemed wrong in the presence of a holy being like Castiel, even if Dean was tainting him with pies and skin mags.

Dean left to go to the bar, ready to get some money from suckers who thought they could beat him at pool.

"Guess it's just you and me," Sam said, getting up to use the bathroom and brush his teeth.

"Yes, Samuel," the angel said, closing his book and staring directly at Sam.

Sam squirmed under the intense gaze and walked to the bathroom.

He closed the door quickly. Castiel was acting so weird lately. Normally, he wouldn't have spared a passing glance at Sam. Out of the two Winchester brothers, Dean was always the angel's favorite. _Always_. But now he was so clingy to him, always keeping a sharp eye on him. And what was with the little mystery he'd been talking about earlier that day? The, 'I cannot discuss that at the moment' stuff was too clouded with mystery. Resigned, Sam started to brush his teeth, using the toothpaste that he and Dean would always pack up in their suitcases because it was inexpensive and neither had ever had a cavity since the youngest brother was ten and went a little too overboard with the Halloween candy.

Lost in his thoughts, Sam tripped over a pipe in the bathroom and fell face first onto the cold, grey floor, and the cheap, white toothpaste went splattering over his hair. He groaned. Damn, that really hurt.

Before he could get himself up, he felt careful hands go around his chest and help pull him up. Sam, startled, moved his head quickly to see who was pulling him back up. It was Castiel, his face serious – and was that concern? – while he moved the human upward.

When Sam was standing up, he looked at Castiel, whose hands had gone down from his chest to his stomach.

"Castiel," Sam said, confused and slightly disoriented. "What are you doing?"

"I was correct," Castiel said softly, in what sounded like amazement.

"Correct about what?" Sam asked, shying away from the touch.

"You are with child, Samuel."

Sam laughed softly, feeling pity on the angel. He bet that they didn't teach sex-ed up there in heaven.

"I can't be, Cas," he said as gently as he could, not wanting to offend him. "I don't have all the right parts. Women do, I don't."

Castiel shook his head, hands now freely feeling Sam's flat stomach. "No, you do. I sense it, the chasteness and wholeness of an unborn child. It is within you."

More sober, Sam asked, "How could I be pregnant? I don't have a uterus or a period or anything that's necessary for pregnancy."

"Have you committed sodomy lately?"

Sam physically squirmed at the memory. It was only a week ago but it seemed so much farther away than that.

As if Castiel had read his mind, the angel said, "Your child is small, almost unnoticeable, Samuel. It would only make sense that it would be conceived in the time span of a couple of weeks, if that. It is pure, despite it's lineage."

Sam would have bristled about the lineage comment if he weren't so transfixed by Castiel's words. He couldn't be pregnant or 'with child', whatever Castiel wanted to call it. That was impossible, abnormal. Where would the baby even fucking grow in his body? There was just no room for it in his body.

"Okay, say that maybe I am," Sam appeased Castiel. "How would I even become pregnant? I mean, yeah, I… had sex with a man but I can't be pregnant. I mean, we even used a condom." Sam's cheeks turned a little rosy.

Things you wouldn't normally tell an angel for five hundred dollars, Bob.

Castiel's hands wandered lower on Sam's stomach and pressed down lightly. "Something supernatural. Like you said, it is not natural for a human male to become pregnant, even with the demonic blood still running through your veins. Although this child's conception is unusual, it is fully human, from what I can tell. Whole and human."

Sam furrowed his brow when he came to the realization that Castiel was serious. That this wasn't some elaborate prank his older brother came up with to rub Sam's nose raw.

"You're not messing with me, are you? You're actually telling me the truth."

Shaking his head, the angel said solemnly, "I never was and yes, I am telling the truth. I have no motive to lie to you."

The human's head started to swim. This was too much for him. He couldn't be pregnant. He _couldn't_. It was unnatural and weird and this… _thing_ was obviously influenced by something that meant no good.

"You said it was human, right? I mean, despite everything? It's not going to claw out my stomach or anything?"

"From this stage, it feels very human."

"I had sex a week ago, it's not a very long stage," Sam muttered, unable to reach Castiel's eyes.

"There is nothing dark in this child, Samuel, it would have shown already if it was anything demonic."

Taking a deep breath, pinching his nose with his pointer finger and thumb, the human asked, "And you're really, really sure about this?"

"Very, yes," he tilted his head in curiosity. "I thought you would be pleased by this. You are very close to Dean. I would think that adding a new family member would be something of a celebratory occasion for you."

It felt like a ton of bricks had hit his chest when he remembered Dean. God, it was so strange not to remember Dean. They'd grown up intertwined with one another, like the roots of two sister Redwood trees, and Dean was engraved into Sam's mind. But his older brother wouldn't like this one bit. Anything supernatural had to be killed, anything that was unusual or abnormal had to be eliminated. This news would be received with yells and anger and disappointment. Overwhelmed by all of this information, Sam sat down on the toilet lid, head hanging low.

"Can't I just get rid of it?" Sam asked, hands cautiously going over his abdomen. It didn't feel any bigger than it was but, then again, it shouldn't have been. This _thing_ was only conceived a week ago. Probably no bigger then a speck of dirt.

The corners of Castiel's lips drooped down. "It is an innocent human life, Samuel. I do not condone it, even if this pregnancy is unplanned."

Sam snorted cynically at the word 'unplanned'. It was like saying that the huge zit on the top of your lip that felt like it was covering up your entire face on the exact night of prom was unplanned. It was but my God, what a bitch.

"Dean's going to freak," he said, mostly to himself.

Castiel tilted his head in confusion. "He will think it is wrong, I agree, but he stayed with you even when you were drinking the demon blood. At least this will come with a pleasing outcome."

Sam physically flinched at the memory, his brother locking him up in Bobby's safe room and the anger and rejection still fresh in his mind.

"He doesn't even know I like guys like that," Sam muttered, fingers playing with the hem of his sleeve and he felt like a kindergartner who had to tell his teacher that he couldn't make a mothers' day card all over again.

"Dean will find out sooner or later."

"Don't tell him about this. I'm serious, Castiel."

Castiel did not say anything in response and avoided eye contact with Sam.

"Promise me, Castiel. Swear it."

Castiel sighed. "I do not believe that this is the right decision, but it is yours. I will not tell Dean."

Getting up from the toilet seat, Sam moved to his bed, fingers running through his hair in stress, and Castiel was trailing behind him like a puppy.

"You must be careful now, Samuel. Until you reach your third month, this pregnancy is highly unstable. And even then, the chance of miscarrying is very much a reality."

Quirking his eyebrows, Sam asked, "How do you know so much about pregnancy?"

"I have been alive for thousands of years. Although some of your behavior is baffling, I know the mechanics of a human body."

Sam nodded; it made sense that the holy being knew a lot about humans after watching over them since their creation. But be careful? In their line of work, getting hurt was inevitable, whether it was bruises and cuts or concussions and broken bones. A horrifying thought suddenly struck him.

"How will it even get out?"

"I suppose there will have to be an operation. An incision to take the child out of you."

"A C-Section."

Castiel nodded. "Yes, a C-Section. You have not commented on my statement about hunting."

"I have to hunt, Castiel."

"Then there is a strong chance that you till miscarry. You become stressed during your hunts, both physically and mentally."

"I can't just stop," Sam said softly, imagining Dean's reaction if he told him he had to stop hunting because he had a one-night stand's baby inside him. That would go over well as well as when he decided to go to Stanford.

"Do you want this child?"

Hands wandered to his stomach again and he even surprised himself when he said, "Yeah, I do." He felt like he wanted the baby for selfish reasons. He wanted someone who would look up to him as he looked up to Dean and someone who didn't know the bad things he had done.

"Then you must be careful," Castiel repeated. "Even if that means stopping hunts."

Suddenly, Sam's head felt like it was swimming and he laid down on his bed, putting his right hand over his eyes to block out the harsh motel light and to stop from getting nauseatingly dizzy.

"Can I take a pregnancy test just to make sure?" Sam asked, a little deliriously.

"You do not have the necessary hormones to make a pregnancy test read positive, but I assure you that I am correct."

"I bet this is what the Virgin Mary felt," Sam muttered.

Sam heard a soft gasp from Castiel, but didn't bother moving his hand from his eyes. He was too dizzy. "That is blasphemous." He could imagine the angel's look of outrage.

"I just mean that she must have been shocked that she was pregnant like I was. She was a virgin and I had sex with a man. Neither of us thought we could get pregnant."

"I still do not believe that you should put it in that context."

"Yeah, probably not. Listen Cas, I'm just going to go back to bed, okay?" There was too much information to digest, too many weird things and he just felt so unbelievably tired.

Castiel hummed in agreement. "I shall watch over you now, Samuel."

Samuel groaned. Just what he needed, a guardian angel that could look over him and a random guy's baby and the guy wasn't even that handsome.


	2. Love Burns a Circle in the Snow

Title: Sonata

Rating: Hard R/soft NC-17

Length: 8,685/10,000

Summary: The one where Sam has a one-night stand with a guy named Paul, gets pregnant and has to be told by a fascinated angel, and ends up having an incestrious relationship with his older brother. So, yeah, pretty cliched.

Original prompt made by spuffy_girl for the mpregwinchester Secret Santa. I did play a little with the prompt, I hope you don't mind, Spuffy.

**Part Two: Love Burns a Circle in the Snow**

Dean came back to the motel an hour after Sam fell asleep. His little brother was sleeping flat on his back like a robot, chest expanding and deflating slightly at each breathing cycle.

Castiel was sitting on an old wooden chair that he had moved farther up so he could be on the left of Sam. His face was worried, corners of his lips drooping down and eyebrows bunching up. The angel never looked up even when he heard the secure metal door slam closed when the human got in got in. Dean winced; he didn't want to wake up his brother.

Dean frowned and approached Castiel, now mindful of how loud his boots could be on the solid, tiled floor of the motel.

"You okay, Cas?"

Castiel nodded, eyes still remaining on the sleeping Sam. "Yes, I am fine."

Dean looked at his little brother more closely. He didn't look like he was in pain or sick or anything like that. Just sleeping. Maybe a little tired – small black bags forming under his eyes – and worried – mouth a little too pinched, lines starting to form on his forehead – but otherwise fine. Dean imagined that if he were asleep, he'd look a lot like that, too. They both had the world on their shoulders right now, literally.

"What's with the sudden attention you're giving to Sammy?" Dean whispered, tired himself. He had managed to get about fifty dollars from this really drunk guy who seemed to care more about Dean's ass rather than the actual game they were playing, but money is money.

"You must watch over him, Dean" Castiel said, bright blue eyes staring intensely at Dean.

"I've always watched over him."

Castiel got up from his chair and walked closer and closer to Dean until their chests were practically touching and the Winchester got a wiff of Castiel's breath. It smelled unusually clean and fresh for someone who hadn't brushed his teeth for months.

"I am serious, Dean."

"What's this about, Cas?"

"I cannot tell you. I swore."

Dean looked from Castiel to Sam, suspicions rising within him. "Swore what?"

"That I could not tell you," Castiel said, trying his best to clarify.

Dean rolled his eyes in annoyance. Trying to get something out of Castiel was like getting a horse to drink: Pointless and a loss of time.

"Is Sam in danger?"

The angel paused before answering, "No."

"That's all you're going to tell me, huh?"

"Yes, and you must continue to look out for him."

"Will Sam tell me the little secret you two have?"

Castiel shook his head. "No, he will not."

Feeling exhausted and with more than one beer in his belly, he sat on the side of his bed and started to take out off his boots and jacket, throwing it on the ground. "Fine, whatever. Be elusive and crap like that. Just let me know if something does become serious."

"Of course, Dean. Sleep well."

Dean had just barely turned over to his side, still in jeans and a shirt, when he fell asleep.

~*~

The case in San Francisco didn't take as long as they figured. The next day, they researched in the public library about the (many, it turns out) local legends and untimely deaths in that particular neighborhood. There were a few normal, but tragic, deaths they read about: a seven year old boy had died at the corner of the street ten years ago after he fell off his skateboard and hit his head and a man was killed by plugging in a hairdryer while his hands were still soaking wet, until they came across what they thought they were looking for. A man, Casey Jober, who lived in the house for about ten years had allegedly caught his wife in bed with his best friend and, in blind rage and anguish, had killed his wife along with the unborn child she carried and his best friend.

Dean had figured that Jober was still haunting the place, possibly creating his own little drama within the house, and assisted in the man's killing of wife and kids before making the man turn the gun onto himself.

It was a shut and close case; the brothers and Castiel found and burned Jober's bones. They waited a couple of days before they were back on the road, stopping whenever they saw a newspaper rack and searched the obituary section.

"What's up, Sammy?" Dean asked as they were driving down a long highway that seemed to go forever without an exit. Sam was staring out of the window and Dean could see from the reflection that his eyes were brooding and worried – well, more so than it usually is. He had always been brooding about something since he hit his preteen years. Knew too much for his own good, that boy.

Sam grunted something unintelligible, pulling his old coat closer to him. The temperatures were dropping fast as they got farther up north and Sam's ratty, worn coat had seen too many years to give his little brother enough protection.

"You need a new coat, Sammy."

"Don't have 'nough money for a new coat. This one is fine," Sam said softly and Dean noticed his brother's hand was drifting closer and closer to his stomach.

"You got a stomach ache?"

Like his stomach was suddenly on fire, Sam snatched his hand away from his midsection and onto the strap of his seatbelt, mindlessly playing with the little frayed nylon on the edges. Dean's baby was starting to get old.

Castiel, who had been sitting silently in the backseat for the better part of an hour, suggested that the brothers stop and get something to eat when they reached the next exit.

Dean quirked his eyebrow, Castiel usually never gave a second thought to the Winchesters' needs. The angel would usually have them running all over the country without a break. Dean looked at Sam, expecting to see an equally confused look on his brother's face, but Sam's eyes were still glued to the window.

Stomach starting to growl, Dean agreed and they ended up going to the closet, quickest and cheapest place they could: McDonalds. Castiel declined anything to eat and Sam said he just wanted a thing of fries and a packet of the crappy type of honey that places like McDonald's has that's all sugar water with honey-yellow dye rather than actual, bee-made honey. As soon as he said it, Castiel said Sam's name in a deep, disapproving voice and Sam sighed, slumping down even lower in his seat and ordered a hamburger and root beer instead.

Dean was reminded of how Sam used to look whenever their dad yelled at him about something and his little brother decided to go on a faux Gandhi hunger strike until their dad apologized to him. The only apology Sam ever got from their dad was a pat on the back and maybe a hot chocolate with whipped cream on it from whatever roadside diner they were eating at.

It was enough for Sam until he got older and chocolate and sweets couldn't solve everything.

Dean parked in the McDonald's parking lot and turned on the radio while he and Sam ate their food. Besides the rock and roll music blasting throughout the stereo, they remained silent, getting up and throwing their trash away in the graffiti marred trashcan when they were done.

They drove for another couple hours nonstop until they reached the border between California and Oregon and stopped in a sleepy, Mayberry-like town. It being wintertime in the northwest, the little sun they had set around four and it soon started to sprinkle and then drizzle and then bring down a horrible, drenching, down-pouring rain that made Dean miss the times they stopped in Florida. It always had a nice, tropical rain that didn't make him feel like a wet, outdoor cat afterwards.

Castiel stayed with them again that night and Dean didn't say anything about it, just shrugged it off and started to take off his boots.

When Dean went to take a shower, Sam said to Castiel, "You can't keep staying here like this, Castiel, hovering around."

Castiel tilted his head in confusion and it reminded Sam of what dogs looked like when they were scolded by their owners but had no idea why. "I already promised that I would watch over you."

"But if you do it constantly then Dean will get suspicious."

"Dean will find out, Samuel."

Sam, clothes and shoes and all, laid down on his bed, wanting this whole situation to be over and done with.

"But not because of you, right Cas?"

"Correct, not because of me. However, I feel that it's necessary to say that you must continue to put proper nourishment in your body. Not eating will not help you or your unborn child."

"Yeah, okay, sorry," Sam softly apologized, moving so he could slip under the covers and put a blue pillow over his face to block the light that he wished he had turned off.

There was a long pause before Castiel said, "I wish you and your child to survive. That is why I am concerned."

Sam took the pillow off his head so he could say that he knew that already and thanks.

He was half-asleep by the time he heard the shower door slam close and the faucet turn on.

~*~

In fact, for the next month or so, it felt like Sam was always half-asleep, doing what he needed to do and nothing more. Dean didn't say much about his brother's near-silence, occasionally giving him deep, worried looks when he thought his baby brother wasn't looking. Sometimes, Dean would go into a room where Castiel and Sam would be talking amongst each other like schoolgirls gossiping about who Robert Patterson was dating and then they would break apart quickly whenever he came in.

Dean wondered how he even knew who Robert Patterson was. Sure, he knew what 'The Suite Life of Zack and Cody' was because, even in the cheapest of motels, the television had Disney Channel alongside the copious amounts of lesbian porn and he'd watch it when he was in too much pain – physically or mentally or emotionally or some other Dr. Phil shit – to fall asleep. Something was kind of disturbingly wrong with 'Phineaus and Ferb' being right next to 'Lesbian Lovelies 2: When The _Pussy_ Cat Got Rabies'.

Yeah, because fear of water and hallucinations and frothing at the mouth and all that other crap that went with rabies was real sexy.

They only had gotten a few cases this month, none of them as exciting or interesting Dean had wanted. None of the angels, besides Castiel who seemed to be permanently glued to Sam's side, had bothered them and Dean was just fine with that. Castiel was the only angel that he could tolerate and even that relationship was starting to get on his nerves. Castiel was becoming so… clingy. Not to him, though, but to Sam. Castiel's mouth was still closed as tight as a nun's legs – and, yeah, Dean thought that sentence was pretty damn blashphemous – about why Sam was becoming more moody and angstier than ever.

It was like fifteen-year old Sam was back with vengeance because of some type of cruel de-aging witch spell that only affected his emotions rather than his whole body and appearance.

So yeah, Dean was concerned but figured that it was mostly just a phase: A phase that made his brother even more bitchy than usual. It wasn't the best explanation, but it was the only one he could come up with and it fit Sam. His brother was always so melodramatic about every perceived slight, he always had a hard time letting the water just slide off his back.

"It's raining hard," Sam said, breaking Dean out of his thoughts.

Dean nodded, getting up and looking out the window and saw that it was starting to hail. "Yeah, looks like we're going to be here for another day or so. All the roads out of here are dirt and I don't want the Impala to be splattered with mud if we can help it. Not like we have a case or anything to follow anyway."

"Yeah," Sam said, idly playing with the loose threads at the bottom of his shirt.

"You okay, Sammy?"

Dean tried to think of how many times he had asked his brother that in the past month. Too many times, in his opinion.

"I'm fine," his brother smiled, but even ten feet away, Dean could tell that it was faked. His eyes remained far away and stoic, despite the corners of his lips being forcibly pulled up.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?" Dean was reminded of when he had to tell his brother that exact same thing after Sam had turned twelve and Dean noticed that Sam was starting to have wet dreams.

"I know that."

"Good, good. And I won't be mad, okay? No more secrets."

Sam sighed. "I _know_, Dean. I'm not hiding anything from you, I promise."

If Dean had been more attentive, he would have noticed the wide, almost guilty, look Castiel had just given his brother.

~*~

After that conversation, Sam made an effort to act as normally as possible around his brother. He tried to laugh at Dean's lame, dirty jokes about tits and porn and attempted to pay attention to whatever Dean said about the new hunt that were going on, but it was always half-hearted. He felt more unnatural than he did even when he was drinking Ruby's blood and it _hurt_. His only relief was his new shadow, also know as Castiel. He turned out to be more of a support than Sam could ever have imagined.

Sure, Castiel was almost painfully clinical with the way he talked about Sam's child and constantly protective and concerned, but Sam was slowly feeling more comfortable talking to the angel than ever before and it helped to stop the secret from eating him up inside out.

The angel would follow him and his brother on the hunts, one eye on the monster they were hunting and the other on Sam. After, he would always ask if he was okay and Sam always was. Castiel would fret like a mother hen if Sam had gotten even a bruise or cut that was even close to his stomach and the human couldn't even fathom what would happen if he got a concussion or something that would actually knock him out. Castiel would probably go berserk.

In the shower, Sam would sometimes look down at his stomach and feel around. His midsection felt a little softer, but that was also because he hadn't been working out as much. The muscles in his arms were starting to become less pronounced as well and Sam didn't think that was a symptom of… pregnancy.

Sam still had a hard time admitting that he was pregnant, even two months after he found out. The word still were so foreign in his mind and much more on his tongue.

Sam had researched pregnancy symptoms on his laptop (and, of course, quickly deleted the history after in case Dean decided he wanted to watch porn on it again and ended up on a website called Americanpregnancy instead of Americanporn) and felt pretty happy that he hadn't had any morning sickness yet. He had no idea how he would have gotten that past his brother.

His secret was kept secure between him and the angel for the next two months. At four months, Sam's stomach was starting to become more pronounced but it was rainy and still cold in April and he could hide his growing abdomen with many layers of clothes without any suspicion. It was a small blessing for Sam because he knew that eventually his brother would notice, Dean wasn't stupid, and he's have to tell him. He dreaded that day.

Luckily, things were pretty quiet (unusually quiet, in fact) on the Apocalypse front, a few nasty demons but nothing that they couldn't handle and they mostly just got bruised and cut up. Only temporary injuries.

They had arrived in Nevada after a hunt with a very crafty poltergeist in central California that left them wanting to take a small, two-day break.

Dean had wanted to go further south because he was sick of the cold and wanting to enjoy the warm, desert sun. Sam had been reluctant to say the least, the further inland they got, the more layers he had to take off so he wouldn't pass out from overheating and the more exposed his round stomach got. Dean had been annoyingly persistent though, and they landed in a tiny, desert town.

Castiel, Dean and Sam were eating at a diner when a beautiful, young woman came in with high heels and impossibly long legs. Dean's eyes were immediately glued to her and he was practically drooling. Sam rolled his eyes and continued to eat his lettuce and tomato sandwich; any type of meat had started to feel repulsive to him.

The woman walked up to the cashier, hips swaying and thick, black hair bouncing at each step, and said something to the cashier and the cashier's eyes went wide and his mouth slack.

Sam opened his mouth to say something, to warn his brother that something didn't feel right, but the woman beat him to it when she stood up on the bar and took out a long, black gun and gave the patrons of the diner a wide, sadistic smile.

"Everyone be quiet and take out your wallets, got it? Put it on the table. No funny business, or I'm going to kill everyone last one of you."

Sam and Dean looked at each other, silently deciding what to do. Dean sighed and shrugged, breath still remaining even, and he took out his wallet from his pants pocket and Sam did the same.

The woman got down from the bar and walked over to each of the tables, gun still tight in her hand, and counted the people and the number of wallets put on the table. Everyone had obeyed – the burly man sitting in the corner, the young mother with a toddler at her side, the waitress- and were all shaking in fear.

She stopped at the Winchester's table and noticed there were only two wallets and three men.

"Where's the other wallet?" She demanded, pointing the gun in between Sam and Dean.

"I don't have a wallet," Castiel stated, confused at her behavior.

The woman rolled her eyes and snorted in disbelief and turned the gun on the angel. "Yeah right, buddy. I'm serious, where the hell is it?"

"I don't have one," he repeated.

"Fine, if you want to be that way," turning the gun directly on Sam now. "Then your little friend is going to get a bullet in his brain. I want the money."

"He really doesn't have it," Dean said, panic sparking up inside of him, and when he saw the woman's finger going on the trigger, he lunged for the gun and the woman and was met with a sickening sound of a gunshot. When the woman was pinned underneath him, he looked up and saw Sam slumped on his chair, his little brother's own blood staining his jacket.

The woman had shot his little brother.

~*~

The last thing Sam remembered was Dean's voice telling him that he was going to be okay, it was just a shoulder wound, and for godsakes, Sam, stay awake and don't go into shock. He had to stay awake. Sam could only head little muffles of things that Castiel was saying and Sam's uninjured hand wandered to his stomach. He remembered himself babbling something about the baby and for Dean to take care of it and he was sorry, he was so sorry.

The last thing Sam felt were the warm hands of Dean on his forehead and cheeks and the stinging pain coming from his right shoulder.

And then everything went mercifully black.


	3. Love Turns Tripe Into Gold

Sam woke up groaning. There was a dull, but consistent, ache in his shoulder and his head felt like it weighed a thousand pounds and the glaring motel light didn't help any.

He heard someone walk up to him and pull up a chair.

"How do you feel?"

Dean was talking to him and Sam knew he had to respond.

It took a moment for Sam to collect his thoughts and said, "'m okay. Head and shoulder hurt."

"Not your… stomach?"

Sam shook his head, but that only made his brain feel like it wasn't connected to its skull and it made him wince.

Looking up, the younger brother could see how tired Dean looked. He had dark bags under his eyes and deep lines around his mouth. For a second, Sam could have easily mistaken him for their dad.

Dean bit his lip and moved Sam's hair out of his face like he used to do when Sam got a fever and they were alone because dad had to hunt and Dean got scared that something was going to happen to his baby brother.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He sounded hurt and tired and concerned.

Sam was just confused.

"Tell you what?"

Dean moved his hand away and returned it back to his lap. "That you're… pregnant, Sammy. God…."

Sam's left hand went around his bare waist and he didn't really know why he felt such a relief when he felt the familiar mound on his stomach. Things would have been so much easier if the baby was just gone, right?

"Castiel told you, of course he did. Angels can't keep a secret for the life of them," Sam mumbled, closing his eyes again and suddenly feeling irritable. "And can you turn off that damn light off? It's giving me more of a headache than I already have."

He heard Dean get up from his chair and the next time Sam opened his eyes, the light was turned off and the rays of sun from the motel room window was the only thing letting him see his brother.

"Cas had to tell me, Sam. I was going to take you to the hospital to get your wound checked out. He told me I couldn't do that because they would find out about you being… you know. I ended up having to take the bullet out myself in this stupid motel. Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's unnatural."

"Sammy, both of us died and then came back to life. That's pretty damn unnatural isn't it? You promised me no more secrets."

Sam half shrugged, feeling an awful mixture of guilt and nausea. "What did Castiel tell you?"

"Everything. I didn't believe him at first, thought maybe there was something wrong with his vessel or he was malfunctioning or something like that. But it made sense kind of, how quiet you've been and how Cas has been hovering all over you. You're kind of getting a little… round on the stomach. I can't believe that I didn't notice something was seriously wrong."

"I would've told you eventually," Sam said, feeling like he was a kid being guilt tripped by his parents.

"What? That you were into guys or that you were carrying one's baby?" Dean cringed, it came out harsher than he wanted it to but he was exhausted – he had stayed up all night watching over his brother, making sure that he wouldn't wake up alone and disoriented – and worried and it just came out as anger.

"I thought that once I told you I was pregnant, you'd figure I also liked guys," Sam said, smiling weakly at his attempt to joke.

Dean ran his fingers through his hair and he wondered when Castiel was coming back. The angel had left an hour or so before Sam woke up and it was weird for him not to be with them. He'd been by their side for months now and it was like one of the dynamic trio was missing or something.

"What are you going to do with it?"

"I don't know."

"Castiel said you wanted to keep it."

The younger brother sat himself up and hissed a little when the pain in his shoulder came back. He wondered what drugs his brother had gave him to dull the pain. Vicoden maybe, they still had some of it left from when Sam broke his hand a while back. "I told him I wouldn't get an abortion. Never said I would keep it after."

Dean paused before stating, "But you want to."

Sam bit his lower lip so hard he thought he tasted blood. "It's stupid and impossible and dangerous. Not with all the crap that's coming our way fast. It's not a place to raise a kid, a baby."

Dean didn't say anything else and got up from his chair and gave his brother a water bottle. "Try drinking all of that in an hour or so. I already called Bobby and he's expecting us at his house in a couple of days. He'll help us figure some things out, what to do."

Sam's eyes went wide. "You didn't tell him that I was pregnant, did you?"

"No, you can do that. He does know something's up, though. We don't usually call him at three in the morning his time unless something big is going to go down. You just stay lying down, okay? Castiel said that the baby was okay but you lost a good amount of blood and I wouldn't be surprised if you're dizzy for a while. You hungry?"

Sam could practically see the switch in Dean's brain go from concerned big brother to mother hen. He got like this when he was really anxious and it was kind of his default switch. Whenever he had too many emotions and decisions clouding his mind, all his thoughts would just go back to Sam's needs and how he could take care of his little brother. It helped keep him calm, keep him sane.

"No, I'm good."

Dean nodded and moved over to his bed, laying down and stretching out, trying to get out the kinks in his back from sitting at Sam's bedside for too long. "I'm going to take a nap but I'm right here. Tell me if you need anything or your shoulder or stomach hurts or need some drugs or something, alright?"

"Okay."

Sam's heart started to feel heavy. His brother wasn't treating him like a freak, not like he thought he would. Sam snorted softly, now Dean was just treating him like a helpless three-year old, but that was nothing new. In Dean's eyes, he was perpetually a toddler.

The younger brother drank some of his water and decided to sleep a little since he didn't have a concussion. Right before Sam fell asleep, he felt a strange fluttering in his stomach. He felt around his stomach, confused, until he realized that the baby just kicked.

There was something so terrifyingly real about that.

~*~

The ride to Bobby's was silent. Sam still had a long, white bandage that wrapped around his whole bicep and now not only was Castiel fussing over him, but also Dean. At least when it was just Castiel, he could block it out. Dean was pretty damn persistent in his caring for him, aggressive even. Sam had mentioned to Dean about the baby kicking a couple hours after it happened and his brother had gotten this far away look on his face and then told him that he should start packing to go to Bobby's. Sam didn't know why he told him that. He still felt guilty about keeping secrets from his brother, so maybe that was it. His tongue was becoming too loose for it's own good. They had barely exchanged three words since.

An hour or so into the long drive, Castiel repeated how pleased he was that both Sam and his child were well and voiced his approval of them taking refuge at Bobby's, said he would be back soon and disappeared. Castiel might as well have been a magician; he was getting pretty damn good at his disappearing acts.

The brothers had looked at each other and shrugged. Castiel would find them when he needed to. Sam was surprised that he actually missed the angel but then again, he had gotten so used to his presence.

By the time the Impala drove up to the front of the house, Bobby was already outside, with his rottweiler sitting right next to him.

Bobby walked over to the car before the boys even got out and motioned with his hands for Dean to roll down his windows. The older man looked at Sam and then Dean and asked, "Why trouble are you boys in now?"

Sam tried to smile but it came out as more of a grimace.

"We need to talk to you, Bobby," Dean said and the Winchesters' got out of the car. As soon as they did, Rumsfeld came running to Sam, jumping on him in an attempt to lick his face. For the first time in a long time, Sam let out a genuine laugh. Bobby had gotten Rumsfeld as a puppy when Sam turned eleven and they had just clicked. Bobby would tease John that one day, he was going to go driving with his sons and suddenly hear some barking and find out that his youngest boy had smuggled the puppy in the trunk.

Sam took a few steps back when the heavy rottweiler's paws pressed too heavily against his stomach. He petted the dog's head and looked up to see Dean and Bobby talking amongst themselves. He sighed, time to face the music.

Bobby walked over to Sam and pulled the dog back by tugging on the collar. He patted Sam's back and gave him a worried smile. "How you doing, Sam?"

"I'm alright," he replied and walked with Dean and the older man to the house. "Thanks for taking us in."

"Anytime, you know that."

Sam nodded and he enjoyed the comforting smell of Bobby's house. It smelled like gasoline and sweat and sticky humidity, just like Bobby. Sam always thought it was funny how smells could bring back such vivid memories. In this house, he lost his two front teeth, went on a crazy growth spurt, and had celebrated his tenth and thirteenth birthdays. He kind of loved this place. It never changed, either. Books still littered the floor, their spines softly bitten by Bobby's dogs, along with dozens of different maps of the United States.

The youngest Winchester had concluded a long time ago that that this was the only real, stable home he had, Pastor Jim's house being the second.

"So what do you need to tell me about?" Bobby asked when they entered the small, cramped kitchen.

Dean looked at Sam, eyebrows going up as if to say, 'Go on. Tell him.'

"You might want to sit down for this," Sam said even though knowing it was a tired cliché and gestured at the chair next to a table covered with old newspaper clippings.

Bobby looked confused, but did as he was told. "What did you two do now?"

Sam blushed. His brother sure didn't help him get into this mess, not this time. "I'm… Well," God, why did this have to be so hard? "I'm pregnant, Bobby."

Bobby paused for a moment before smirking. "Nah, I'm serious, you idjits. What happened for real?"

Dean looked down. "It's true."

His expression sobered. "You guys need me to help exorcise it, is that it?"

Sam said softly, "It's not demonic. Castiel checked. It's… human."

Bobby looked like the wind was just taken out of him and he put his right elbow onto the table and took a deep breath. "You sure it's human?"

"Yeah." The younger Winchester felt like the biggest disappointment in the world.

"How… My God, this sounds weird. Um, how far along are you?" Bobby sounded like he wanted to laugh this off, like he thought this was an untimely April Fools joke that the boys had pulled together.

"Four and a half months," Sam replied, unable to meet the older man's eyes.

"Who fathered this kid? Besides you, I mean," he stumbled through the words.

Sam felt even more ashamed when he admitted that he only knew that his first name was Paul and it happened when they were in a small town in New York. God, he'd never felt so embarrassingly slutty before. Hell, he'd never felt embarrassingly slutty.

"Besides the angel, anyone else confirmed this?"

Sam shook his head. "No, but I've gained some weight and it's not soft like fat is. It's the… baby."

Bobby silently got up and took out a fat manilla folder from one of the shelves in the kitchen and after a minute (though it seemed much longer for Sam), he pulled out a ripped piece of lined paper and gave it to him.

"I met this guy about five years back, Doug Montgomery. His son was overtaken by a demon and I helped him out exorcising it. He was a doctor, he can probably help you out. I'll give him a call and see if he can come and check you out, Sam. He won't tell anyone else, kind of a quiet guy."

"Thanks, Bobby," Dean said. "And Castiel should be coming back pretty soon. He and Sam have been sewn to the hip for a couple months now."

Bobby sighed. "Did he say that it was going to be dangerous?"

Sam kept his eyes on the number on the page, memorizing it. "He said I had to stop hunting."

"When did he tell you that?" Dean asked, and Sam could hear that his brother was trying to keep his temper in check and he had to cringe. When Dean was openly angry it was bad enough but when he got quiet and closed off it was even worst.

Sam shrugged, like it was no big deal even though he knew it was. "When I first found out from Cas."

"And you didn't think to tell me before we started hunting poltergeists and ghosts and demons and all that other crap we did while you were pregnant?" Okay, now he sounded upset.

"I don't know…" The younger brother trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

Dean didn't say anything else to Sam and excused himself to use the bathroom, fists clenching and unclenching as he walked away.

"Boy…" Bobby trailed off.

"Yeah, I know." He felt sick to his stomach.

Running his fingers through his thinning hair, Bobby moved to the sink and pulled out a mug from a tray and poured Sam some tap water. "You boys can stay here as long as you want, alright? 'Specially you. Can't believe you been pregnant this whole time, _pregnant_, Sam, and still going off hunting. Can't even believe you're pregnant."

Sam took a long sip of the water, taking a small pleasure of how the cool, tasteless liquid slid down his parched throat. "Neither could I, Bobby. Trust me, I never thought this could ever happen. Nearly had a coronary when Castiel told me."

"Dean seems pissed as hell, you know. You should have told him right after you found out."

The younger man squirmed in his seat. "I know."

"Why didn't you?"

"It's unnatural and weird, Bobby," Sam winced when he heard his voice crack like a twelve-year old just hitting puberty. "And he wouldn't accept it. Didn't accept the demon blood, either. Figured he didn't need to know."

Bobby clenched his mouth so hard that Sam could see the veins in his neck pop out. "Damn it, boy, you knew that he would have found out sooner or later and would have helped you. Hell, even with the demon blood, he tried to help you, to save you. Ever since you were kids, when you sneezed, he had tissue. Every time you scrapped your knee on that old block of cement in the backyard, he was there with band-aids and juice. You should have trusted him. You owe him that much."

Sam suddenly felt like crying right there on Bobby's old table in the poorly lit kitchen. Instead, he hastily excused himself before he ended up sobbing like a little girl and ran to the bedroom he and Dean had been sharing since John had started to trust the gruff man to take care of them.

In his speedy retreat, he hadn't noticed Dean sitting on the staircase, listening in on everything.

~*~

Castiel arrived in the morning while Dean and Bobby were drinking black coffee and Sam was pretending to be asleep in his bed. He had only slept two hours that night, spending most of the time tossing and turning. Dean hadn't been snoring like he usually did when he was legitimately asleep and he probably had gotten as much sleep as his little brother. Sam and Dean hadn't talked the rest of yesterday, awkward silence with every action. Sam had caught Dean staring at his bump three times.

Feeling bored and miserable, Sam got up and moved to the kitchen. The other three mens' eyes fell upon him and he looked away, trying to busy himself with making toast.

"How you feeling this morning, Sam?" Bobby asked, trying to break the tension filled silence.

Looking back, Sam replied, "Pretty good. The bed felt nicer than the Impala."

"You don't look like you slept at all," Dean said, no longer meeting his brother's eyes.

"Right back at you." Sam noticed the deep frown lines around his mouth and the way his shoulders slumped.

Dean muttered something and focused on the black liquid in his mug.

"You two must sleep," Castiel said, back rigidly straight in his chair. "It's only healthy."

"Thanks, Cas," Sam said, trying to muster up some anger directed to Castiel, but found he was too exhausted.

"I called Doctor Montgomery while you were asleep," Bobby said. "Didn't think you'd mind. He'll be here in about two hours or so, give or take traffic."

Sam nodded, not upset just embarrassed. Some stranger was going to find out what an absolute freak he was. "Okay, uh, thanks."

"Not a problem, boy. Just keep takin' care of yourself."

The youngest brother moved to the table and sat on one of the creaky, fifteen year old chairs. He avoided eye contact with his brother, knowing there was an invisible strain between the two. "Yeah, of course." He ate his toast in a couple bites and the excused himself to go take a shower.

By the time he came out of the bathroom, got dressed and then went downstairs, Dr. Montgomery was there in the living room. He was an older man, in his late fifties at least, with gray hair and lines around his mouth and eyes. He was a couple inches short of Castiel's height and stood up straight, like there was a metal wire running down his spine. "You must be Sam," he said, shaking his hand.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I am. Nice to meet you."

He saw Dr. Montgomery's eyes go from his face to his middle and he felt even more self-conscious. He was wearing a white T-shirt that used to be too big for him a few months ago, but now was slightly too small.

"So I heard about your circumstance from Bobby over there," he gestured to the older man, who was standing in the entrance way, like he didn't know if it was out of place for him to go in. Not Dean, though. Dean was standing right next to Dr. Montgomery, nodding at everything he said. "And I think I might be able to help you. I've never dealt with a male pregnancy before, who has really? But I'll try my best."

"He's four and a half months along," Dean added quietly.

"I know, Bobby told me during the call." He opened the bag he was carrying and asked Sam to get on the couch and take off his shirt. Dr. Montgomery looked over at the audience consisting of Dean, Bobby and Castiel and then back at Sam. "You want some privacy?"

Sam opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by his older brother saying gruffly, "I'm staying."

The younger Winchester shrugged and Bobby took Castiel by his upper arm and moved to the kitchen. Sam took off his shirt slowly, cheeks turning red from embarrassment. Dean visibly gaped at the sight of his younger brother's exposed, rounded stomach and Sam could no longer meet his eyes.

The doctor pressed gently at his abdomen, asking if anything hurt when he poked there, or here, or maybe right there? Sam shook his head at each question and Dr. Montgomery smiled in relief. "Good, that's good." He took out a stephoscope and put the cold metal onto Sam's skin. He listened for a moment or two before nodding and taking it off. "Everything sounds normal, believe it or not."

"Yeah?" Sam asked.

"Have you felt the baby kicking yet?"

"I, uh, a couple nights ago."

Dean's face became pained and he let out a long sigh.

Dr. Montgomery didn't notice and continued his series of questions. "Hmm, hmm. Now, have you been feeling any pressure in your chest area or your back?"

Turning red, he said quietly, "A little in my chest. Only recently, like in the past week or so. Does… does that mean I'm going to…?"

"Possibly, there's a chance of that. This is all new to me too, Sam. It's up in the air."

Sam felt a black pit form in his gut. Actually breastfeeding a baby? _God_.

"So, it seems like your body has made somewhat of a makeshift womb in there. The position of the baby is a little higher than most women's in their pregnancy, though. You experience any heart burn?"

"No."

"Then maybe it's just the way the baby is supposed to be. You're going to have a hard time. Your hips aren't wide enough to carry a pregnancy comfortably, so don't do anything strenuous. We'll probably have to perform a C-Section in the middle of your eighth month, if we can. We might have to do it earlier, we don't want the baby to get too big that it starts to crush the organs surrounding it. I'll try coming every other week to check up on you and I'll visit more frequently when you get closer. You feel any discomfort at all, call right away, okay?"

"Okay," Sam nodded. "Can I put my shirt back on?"

"Of course, sorry." Sam moved to get up from the sofa to get the shirt that fell on the floor but Dean had beaten him to it and handed it over to him. Sam let out a small smile and said, "Thanks."

Dr. Montgomery pulled out a pamphlet from his bag. "This is for pregnant women, but it'll still help. It shows what you should and shouldn't eat and things like that."

Sam looked through the pamphlet and grimaced at the pink letters and frilly borders. He felt like such a girl.

Dr. Montgomery wished Sam his best, shook his hand again, then Dean's and walked to the kitchen to say goodbye to Bobby.

"So, wow," Dean finally said dryly, breaking the silence.

"Yeah."

He took the pamphlet from his little brother's hands and flipped through it. "It says that you should quit eating spicy food. You don't do that anyway so you don't need to worry about that. Eat plenty of popcorn to prevent," he frowned comically and handed it back to Sam. "Hemmohroids." He started to chuckle and then Sam started to as well. He closed his eyes for one moment and he was transported to a couple years ago, when things were right between them.

~*~

It soon became Bobby, Castiel and Dean's responsibility to mother hen Sam. He even wondered if they scheduled out times for one of them to be watching over him while he was asleep, like he was most of the time in the past month or so. Dr. Montgomery said that it was normal; his body was trying to adjust and to sleep whenever he needed to. He'd wake up around ten, take a nap at three and be conked out by seven. He felt useless and like a leech, but if he tried to do anything other than read and maybe cook a grilled cheese sandwich, he grew exhausted. Dean and Castiel blatantly watched over him like a hawk, while Bobby did it less obviously with sidelong glances to make sure Sam was eating right.

And then, there was the _other_ problem. He was growing increasingly horny each week he was pregnant, it was like he was thirteen again and suddenly realized his dick could have other purposes than just peeing from. He relieved his problem mostly in the shower, but even that was difficult. If he stayed in too long, Dean would start knocking on the locked door, making sure that his little brother wasn't dying from the steam or something. Even worse, Castiel would sometimes appear in the bathroom, tilt his head and ask if he was well. Sam would scramble to cover up with a nearby towel but it was usually to no avail. The angel had seen a lot more of his privates than Sam had ever wished.

Sam was currently stroking his hard dick, thumb going over the slit as he sat up in his bed. One of the good things about being past the teenage years was that Sam knew exactly what buttons to push, where to stroke, where to fondle to give him the best possible experience. Not this time, though. He must have been jacking off for ten minutes but he couldn't get any real relief. His toes would curl inwards, like he was so close, but then they would relax again and Sam actually growled out loud with frustration and threw himself onto the bed.

Apparently, Dean heard him and before Sam could tuck his cock back into his boxers, the door swung upon. "Sam, what ha-" he stopped mid word and his and Sam's eyes connected for a long moment before Dean looked away. "Oh, dude, I'm so sorry. Didn't even realize you were doing… that."

"Yeah," Sam said, pulling the bed's covers over him and his exposed cock.

Dean lingered at the doorway, one hand clutching the wall. "I should probably, uh, leave...?" The end came out as a question and Sam's eyes widened when he picked it up. His brother just caught him wringing out his dick and actually asked if he should go or not.

When he was younger, sure he had gotten some dreams about his brother but that was only because he knew so few other people. It was much easier to have a wet dream about someone you know than just some random porn star. And if he still looked at Dean after he got of the shower a few more moments than was brotherly, that didn't mean anything, did it?

Sam was still horny and it felt like all the blood that was usually in his brain had flowed right down to his dick and so he wasn't thinking straight when he said, "You can stay," to Dean right? _Right_?

Dean nodded and quietly took a seat close to the dresser.

Sam stroked two more times until he went undone.

~*~

For the next three months, things had started to fall into a routine. Sam would wake up to Dean's legs tangled around his (Dean claimed to his little brother that it got too cold at night and Sam could get sick if he didn't stay warm), get up, pee, have breakfast, listen to Castiel lecture him about healthy pregnancies, pee, sleep, have lunch, shower, have a snack, read, pee, have dinner, pee, go to sleep, wake up at midnight to find Dean on the other side of _Sam's_ bed, rinse and repeat. He had to pee a lot, something that apparently was very normal for being almost eight months along but also very annoying. The only variety he got was when Dr. Montgomery would come and check up on him, which was becoming so frequent that the doctor actually rented a motel room a couple miles away just in case of anything.

The relationship between Sam and Dean was odd, to say the least. They hadn't kissed or anything like that, but Dean touched him a lot more often. Whether it be 'warming' him while he was sleeping or a hand on his lower back, there was always some type of contact.

Dean had just gotten out of the shower, clothed in only a towel, when Sam asked, "What's going on, Dean?"

Dean furrowed his brows and Sam had to look away once he caught sight of his brother's abdomen. God, what was happening to him? "What do you mean, Sammy?"

"What's going on between us?"

Dean let out a chuckle. "You realize how much you're sounding like a girl right now? I don't even know what you're talking about."

"You saw me jack off, Dean. You sat there and saw me shoot my load. Now you're sleepin' in my bed, you know there's something happening."

"I-I don't know, man. It's weird for me too, alright? I don't know what happened then. I just, I…"

Sam got up and walked closer to Dean. "What?"

Dean bit his bottom lip until he arched his neck and kissed his brother. _Kissed his brother._ Sam knew it should be weird and wrong, it was so wrong! But he couldn't help relaxing into the kiss and he knew he couldn't blame it on his hormones or the fact that he hadn't had a partner for the past eight months. He wanted this.

It was Dean who broke the kiss and he let out a small smile. "So…"

"Huh," Sam said and then kissed Dean again. He never wanted to stop.

~*~

"You ever do this before?" Sam asked, hand grazing his naked stomach when the baby kicked him especially hard. His other hand ran through his hair and Sam winced as he felt how greasy and limp it was. The longer he was pregnant, the more undesirable he felt.

Dean shook his head and smirked. "No. Despite popular belief, I don't fuck everyone I meet."

"With a man, I mean?"

Quietly, his older brother said, "I know what you meant. And no."

Nodding, Sam moved a little closer to his brother and kissed him for a long time. Their tongues battled for dominance before Sam finally gave up and let Dean control their kissing. They moved closer to the bed, before Sam's knees knocked against the corner and he sat on the covers. Dean's hands cupped his cheeks and he broke their kiss, leaning in so their foreheads met.

"You okay?"

Sam smiled softly. Big brother always looking after him, even when they were doing things no brothers should be doing.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm good," Sam said breathlessly.

Dean kissed Sam again. "I don't want to go all the way."

"Why?" Self-doubts began to poison his mind. He knew he wasn't attractive, body too doughy, angry red stretch marks on the sides of his stomach, and greasy skin and hair, but now he was also horny and he wished his brother didn't start anything that he couldn't finish.

"I can't hurt you," Dean said in a voice that he would surely deny using in the morning.

"You won't."

"I will. You haven't had sex since the baby was conceived, right?" Sam nodded. "Then it'll hurt too much for you to actually enjoy it."

Sam quirked his eyebrow. "How do you know that?"

Dean shrugged and he almost looked shy. "Looked it up," he muttered.

The younger brother knew that if he laughed it would ruin the mood and his cock was already deflating from all the talk, but he couldn't help letting out a quiet snort. "And I thought that I was the only brother who did research."

Despite giving Sam an annoyed look, he continued gently rubbing Sam's stomach, "We can always just rub against each other."

"I'm too big, my stomach will get in the way and the skin is already itchy and dry enough."

Dean didn't say anything else, he just got on his knees on the bed and pulled Sam's boxers down.

Sam gasped and squirmed a little when he felt wet lips go onto his cock.

"D-Dean," he stuttered, hands grabbing onto his brother's hair. "You don't have to do this."

Dean looked up and their eyes met. "Yeah, I know. Just try to be quiet, okay? Last thing we need is for Bobby to come barging in because he thinks one of us is getting strangled or something."

"Yeah, yeah, okay."

Sam's breathing went uneven as he felt the wet sensation again and he couldn't suppress a moan. Eight months of celibacy all came out in that one sound. Sam closed his eyes and let himself enjoy every massage of his testicles his older brother gave him, every hollowed cheeks, every little lap of his precum, everything.

He came sooner than he would have liked and barely had time to warn Dean about the upcoming load and most of it ended up on Dean's cheeks and forehead.

"'m sorry," Sam said, spent and tired, but still wanting to apologize. He couldn't imagine how awful Dean felt with a load of his brother's cum on his face.

Dean shook his head. "No, it's fine," he used the corner of the sheet to wipe the cum off. He'd wash the sheets later.

Dean got down from his knees and moved himself closer to Sam, arm going around his waist. "You good?"

Sam hummed and his hands wandered to Dean's cock. He was hard, erection red and angry. He tried to stroke the dick when he was stopped by Dean's hand.

"Stop, Sammy."

"You didn't come."

"Don't worry 'bout it. Go to sleep, I've probably excited you enough."

Sam furrowed his brow. "I'm not tired." Of course his body decided to betray him right there and he couldn't supress a long, sleepy yawn.

Dean didn't say anything else and before Sam knew it, his eyelids started to feel heavy and he felt himself drifting.

"Dean," Sam muttered, head resting on his brother's collarbone. "Thanks."

"Sleep."

Sam was only half-asleep when he heard his brother get off from the bed and move into the bathroom. Sam thought he heard a moan from Dean – the type of moan from pleasure, instead of pain – and he knew that his brother was jacking off but he was too tired to get up and, instead, rolled over to his side, stomach making a very unappealing 'gloshing' sound when he did, and fell asleep.

~*~

Bobby adjusted his baseball cap when he came into the room he let the boys stay in. It was close to ten in the morning and while Sam deserved to sleep in – carrying thirty extra pounds on front couldn't be a lot of fun – but Dean could start to clean stuff up to prepare for the birth and help fix the cars in front.

He was expecting Dean sleeping in the bed closet to the entrance – as usual – and Sam asleep with sheets kicked off his bed, the hot, morning sun killing him. Instead, he saw Dean with Sam in his bed, the older brother's arm going around the younger's waist. Sam's head was resting in the crick of Dean's neck and they looked so… peaceful. Bobby would have shrugged it off as just close comfort between two especially close brothers if he hadn't of seen two sets of boxers thrown on the ground close to the bed and – my God – were those hickeys on Sam's neck?

Well, damn.

~*~

Bobby didn't remark about it and, if Castiel knew, he didn't say anything either. Things were normal, well as normal as it could be with an eight-month pregnant guy who was 'secretly' having sex with his brother. They all took care of Sam, who no longer tried to resist. He was feeling like a beached whale, big, exhausted and stranded in the same position for hours.

It was almost a relief when Dr. Montgomery said that they should perform the C-Section next week. "The baby's gotten too big and it'd be fine if we take it out pretty soon. It'd actually be a lot safer. I'm going to give you the strongest anesthetic I have and the procedure, though performed on women, will probably take about an hour all together," he looked up at Bobby, who, along with Castiel ,had started coming to the appointments. "Where do you think is the cleanest and most open part of the house to do surgery in?"

Bobby stroked his beard and answered, "Probably the boys bedroom. Biggest bedroom in the house."

"Right, okay. And sterile sheets will be needed, of course," he smiled and patted Sam on the shoulder. "One more week, Sam."

Feeling a sudden burst of nervous energy, Sam tried to muster up a smile. "Right, just one more week."

The boys already had a crib/car sear from when Sam was a baby and John had left it there. Castiel had disappeared one morning a few weeks ago and had come back at noon carrying three sets of baby clothes. Sam had started to cry, something he blamed to hormones, of course. Castiel had tried to take care of him in his own way so much these past months.

The night before the surgery, Dean asked Sam while they were in bed, "You nervous?"

"Yeah," Sam said, not even trying to hide it. Dean would know, Dean always knew.

"Don't be, it's going to go off without a hitch, alright?"

"Right."

"And, hey, you get a little, pink baby because of it."

"I know nothing about kids at all, Dean."

Dean kissed his shoulder. "Well, I do and I'll help you out. Don't worry about it, okay? Just sleep, you big girl."

~*~

Dr. Montgomery came at nine in the morning like he said he would and him and Castiel had begun to clean the room and put the sterile sheets on. Sam was taking a bath, trying to fight off the nausea that was twisting at his stomach.

By noon, he was given a mask that he was supposed to breath deeply in and it would make him fall asleep. As instructed, he counted to ten and was out at around four.

When he woke up, he felt a hand smooth away the hair at his brow. "Hey, Sam," Dean said quietly.

Sam's eyelids felt heavy like sand but he managed to half open them. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. "Baby…?"

Dean momentarily left and when he came back out, he had a baby in his arms. "It's a boy, Sammy."

"A… boy?" He reached out for the baby and Dean placed the squirming child on his brother's chest.

He smiled and stroked the baby's cheek with his thumb. He had black hair, pink lips, two blue eyes, two little ears, ten fingers and ten toes. Sam didn't think he'd ever seen someone as beautiful.

Dr. Montgomery came by as soon as he realized his patient was awake and checked his stitches. "You came out with flying colors, Sam. Everything looked good." Sam nodded, eyes never leaving his baby. _His_ baby. He didn't think he'd ever get used to that. "Still, you need to be careful. No walking around for a while and try not to sit up for too long. Don't want to pull the stitches."

"Okay," Sam said softly. "Thanks."

~*~

"I was thinking Harper," Sam said softly, trying to get over the weird sensation of someone sucking his nipples – well, sucking his nipples to get nourishment. One or two of the men he had been with licked licking and biting and sucking on them.

"Harper?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, you know, like Harper Lee," when Dean didn't say anything in response, Sam clarified, "The woman who wrote 'To Kill a Mockingbird'?"

Dean rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Yeah, I know who wrote 'To Kill a Mockingbird'. I was in the eighth grade once, too. And I don't like the name much."

"Why?"

"For one, it's too girlish because it _is_ a girl's name. And second, it sounds too much like herpes. Herpes Harper, that's what kids'll call him. Nah, not to my kid."

Sam went quiet for a moment and his eyes never left the baby boy when he said, "Your kid?"

Dean shifted in his chair and his left leg started to bounce a little like it always did when got nervous about something. "I don't know. I mean we're together, you and me. And… I don't know, Sammy."

"This whole situation is so messed up," Sam said. "You're his uncle, technically, but I want you so bad to be in my life like you were before he was born. And his life too, you know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know that."

After a long pause, Sam said, "We'll figure it out later. I mean, the baby won't even be thinking about family and stuff for another couple years. We can think of titles and stories then."

"I like the name Abel," Dean said, pointer finger reaching out to smooth over his nephew's soft hair. He had a few dark wisps, not nearly as much hair he and Sam had when they were born.

Sam quirked his left eyebrow. "Like, 'I was able to pick up the tractor'?"

"Um, no, Superman. I mean Abel, A-B-E-L. It means Breath, apparently."

Sam let out a sly grin. "You were researching things on the Internet again."

Dean had to resist rolling his eyes again and asked, "You like it?"

The younger brother looked down at his newborn baby, who was still suckling as hard as he could, and stated, "Abel John Winchester. Yeah, I really like that."

"John?"

"He was our dad," Sam said, like that explained everything and to the last two Winchester men, it really did. Sam felt the baby – Abel now, baby boy Abel – stop eating and his mother (or was it father? He and Dean needed to figure that out soon, actually, if only to bring Sam some state of mind) held him even closer to his chest, the planet and star blanket Bobby had gotten them pulled over both Sam and his child.

"Doctor Montgomery's probably going to check you out in about thirty or so minutes," Dean said. "So try to get some rest. Here, let me have the baby."

Sam felt guilty at being reluctant – his brother had practically raised him from six months up – but Abel was so… new. So little, eyes barely staying open since the doctor had taken him out of Sam. After taking a few moments to himself, he gently gave his baby to his brother, telling Dean the whole time to be really careful and to watch the baby's head. Dean nodded at each word and bounced a little as he placed his nephew against his clothed chest. Abel's eyelashes were long and dark and his lips were formed into a pout.

Dean's heart felt like it was going to explode. He was perfect.

~*~

Castiel studied the baby for a moment before smiling. Actually _smiling_. "He looks very well. You call him Abel?" Sam nodded. "That is a biblical name. He is a healthy human."

Sam smiled, knowing that was the only compliment he would ever be able to get out of the angel. "Thanks, Castiel. You know, for everything."

"It is my duty to protect humans," he said, looking closer at the baby right when Abel began to spit up.

Sam tried to smother his laughter. He failed miserably.

~*~

They stayed at Bobby's until Abel was two months old. They knew the apocalypse had been on the backburner for too long and they had a duty to save people from the horrible things that went bump in the dark but it was hard. Sam had gotten attached to the place, like Sam always got attached to places and it didn't help that it was where his son was born.

"You boys come back anytime, alright? Day or night, I don't care. Whenever you boys need me, I'm right here."

Dean nodded, giving Bobby a short hug. "Thanks for everything, Bobby. I mean it. I don't know what we would have done without you."

"Not a problem," He patted Sam on the back and smiled down at the baby in his arms. "See you later, Abel."

Abel gurgled and squirmed in his father's arms.

"You boys call when you get to the motel in Texas, okay? Want to make sure you two idjits get there alright."

"Okay," Sam said, moving over to the Impala and getting in with Abel.

Dean took a moment to look back at Bobby's house and yard and then at Sam and Abel in the backseat, his brother's gaze firmly glued onto his – no, _their_ - two-month old baby.

He took another second before he stepped on the gas pedal and then they were off.

_Fin_


End file.
